


In The Wilderness Of This World

by pinkdiamonds



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Supernatural
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alien Invasion, Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Angst, Castiel's Loss of Grace, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Drama, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Established Relationship, First Time, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Marriage, Post-Apocalypse, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-10 16:04:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2031306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkdiamonds/pseuds/pinkdiamonds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Earth battling the Ori and the last of the Goa’uld, they are unable to help a besieged Atlantis. John and Rodney are forced to make a desperate trip through a quantum mirror in order to procure a ZPM. </p><p>With no time to waste, the only reality they find not under attack and containing a ZPM is one of devastation and unknown dangers. They find help from a former hunter, Dean Winchester and a former angel, Castiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Wilderness Of This World

**Author's Note:**

> Drug abuse, suicide, and non-con are all off screen. Rape is implied only, but still may be triggering for some. Major character death is off screen as well. If you need to know who dies before reading, a look at the summary will likely answer that question.
> 
> Art by astroskylark. She made three different covers, but I couldn't decide which one I like best, so I used all three.

 

 

 

 

The mirror had been found almost a year ago, in an obscure lab on the edge of the city. Rodney, despite what anyone thought of him, was pragmatic and immediately set Radek to work. He wanted duplicate controllers built that would allow teams to find their own reality quickly, and a method in which to gather data from the other realities. He wasn’t convinced he’d be able to recharge any of the empty ZPM’s or build another one. Rodney figured if things got bad enough in Pegasus, the mirror might hold the key to their salvation.

Only one thing was sure, Earth would not be able to send any help in their battle against the Wraith. The planet didn’t have any ZPM’s to spare, and they were currently embroiled in fighting off the Ori as well as the last of the Goa’uld who hadn’t got the message that the only thing the Tau’ri would accept was their complete annihilation.

Over the last three weeks, the situation on Atlantis had become desperate; they were running out of fresh food and medical supplies. The Wraith had parked a half dozen hives above the city, and they were subjecting the city to daily bombardments. The rest of the Wraith fleet was stationed in strategic positions throughout the galaxy. While the Atlantis gate still worked, all of their allies had hives hovering in their skies as well. Every planet where they’d gathered food or hunted game had been decimated.

Ronon and Teyla had been injured in the last attack, and Sheppard had had enough. During the morning meeting, both Sheppard and McKay had vented their spleens and demanded to be allowed to go through the mirror, and Woolsey had reluctantly agreed.

“Finally!” Rodney exclaimed, his blue eyes bright with anger. “It’s going to take a few days until we can find a reality that has a ZPM it isn’t using it.” He rose and nodded at Zelenka. “This is priority, Radek. I want someone on this until a reality is found.”

Rodney turned to follow Zelenka when John’s hand stopped him. “Three days, McKay, even if the reality isn’t optimal.”

“Understood, Colonel,” he answered.

John returned to the table and took the measure of the two men still seated. “You know there’s a very good chance we won’t get back. We _are_ talking about worlds that have been destroyed one way or another. No matter what kind of data we get from Zelenka’s new gizmo, we really have no idea what we’re gonna find.”

“Sir, maybe it would be better if you stayed and I went with Dr. McKay,” Lorne suggested.

“I need you here, Major. After we leave, I want you to send out four teams to get food and medical supplies. You are to stay on the city and coordinate our defenses,” Sheppard ordered. “Protect the ZPM room at all costs. If we make it back with one, we’ll need to install it immediately.”

“Colonel?” Lorne said softly.

John heard the unasked question. He trusted Lorne with his life, but he didn’t trust anyone other than himself with Rodney’s life. “I trust you, Evan. If I didn’t I’d never leave you in charge of the city.”

“How long do you expect to be gone, Colonel?” Woolsey inquired.

“I think that’ll depend on where the mirror and the ZPM is in the other reality. If they’re both in the mountain, we’ll be back as soon as McKay liberates the ZPM. If one or the other is in Area 51, that becomes more problematic. Again, we have no idea about the conditions we might find,” John stated, allowing himself to slouch further down into his chair.

“Do you really think they’d keep the ZPM at Area 51,” Lorne interjected.

“I don’t,” John replied, running his hand through his spiky hair, exhaustion writ large across his handsome face. “We have to keep in mind that this is a different reality, though. Anything is possible.”

“Will you be able to fly out of Groom Lake Air Force Base?” Woolsey wanted to know.

“If there are any planes or helos’ there, I can fly them,” John stated confidently. “But, I’m not counting on any aircraft at Nellis. Depending on mode of transportation and road conditions if we have to drive, we’re looking at an 800 to a 1,000-mile journey at the very least. If we take MRE’s, we won’t have to stop for food,” he finished. “So, anywhere from an hour to a week. Maybe even ten days.”

“I suggest you start getting ready then, Colonel. Perhaps we’ll have some luck and a reality that meets our need will be found quickly,” Woolsey ordered.

Grinning, John said, “We can hope. Major, care to join me?”

~*~

Two days later, Radek found a reality that seemed nearly perfect. Telemetry from the probe he’d modified for the mirror indicated the presence of a ZPM within 1,500 miles and few television or radio signals were detected. Zelenka was as sure as he could be without stepping foot on the planet that this Earth was lightly populated. Unfortunately, the mirror on the other side didn’t look to be at Cheyenne. From what he could see, it was being stored in one of the large warehouses or storerooms that littered Area 51. Radek recalled any number of such buildings from his time at Area 51, many of them containing advanced technology the scientists had been unable to figure out.

~*~

John and Rodney were in their quarters discussing their mission. John had packed for two separate missions; the amount of equipment they had to take would depend on where the mirror was being kept in the alternate reality. He’d checked and double-checked his gear as well as Rodney’s. They’d just finished dressing when they got word that a reality had been found. They shoved extra power bars into pockets while John checked to make sure he had extra EpiPens. Rodney was at the door, anxious to go when John stopped him with a simple touch; he cupped Rodney’s face, thumb stroking over his mouth. “You make sure you stay with me. If something happens to me, get your ass back to Atlantis and try again,” he ordered.

“John…” Rodney began. He met John’s eyes, his expression calm and stern.

“No. Just, no. I’m serious, McKay. If I go down, get home and try again,” he repeated. He kissed Rodney fiercely, trying to put all of his love into it. “I need your promise.”

“I promise, but you have to promise you won’t do anything stupidly heroic.”

Laughing, John agreed, “Yeah, that’s a promise.”

~*~

Lorne had already moved their gear for an Area 51 reality to Zelenka’s lab. John wasn’t thrilled when he saw all their equipment loaded on a handcart. It meant finding some sort of transportation and dragging the damn mirror with them to Colorado. Getting to the SGC might be difficult enough and Sheppard didn’t want to make a return trip to Nevada with a ZPM. He did a last check through of the gear, hoping he’d bought enough ammo and C-4.

Woolsey was in the lab with most of Rodney’s staff and Major Lorne. “Gentlemen, you have a go. Godspeed and we hope to see you soon.”

“Thank you, sir. See you soon,” John drawled. He grabbed the handcart’s handle and dragged it closer to the mirror, grabbed McKay’s hand and together they touched the mirror’s surface.

~*~

Three years after the end of the world, Castiel claimed that his Grace was totally gone. Dean didn’t fully believe him. It was true that he now slept and ate and fucked; fucked like a boss should anyone need to know, thank you very much, but he had a knack of knowing where they needed to be. He had learned to listen to Cas’ occasional hunches; not listening in the past had cost him greatly. So, Dean thought he still had some mojo left, no matter what Cas claimed.

It was the fucking height of irony that when the world was ending, he and Sam had been underground eliminating a nest of vamps. They’d heard of some weird shit happening in Las Vegas, and Dean had been thrilled. Driving the Impala from Nebraska by way of Wyoming to Nevada, his mind had been pleasantly occupied by thoughts of strippers and showgirls wearing nothing but some feathers and sequins. I-80 was a familiar road and he let his baby stretch her legs, doing 90 most of the way, music blasting.

Much to Dean’s disappointment, there hadn’t been time to engage in any gambling or whoring since they’d tracked one of the vamps to the tiny town of Rachel, 115 miles northwest of Vegas. There they’d lost their quarry. They parked the Impala and their butts in front of the only business in town, the Little A ‘Le’ Inn, waiting for the place to open. It had taken Dean 40 minutes or so before he got the joke.

At 8 AM sharp, an older woman unlocked the place. They waited ten minutes before going in, the rich aroma of coffee filling the air. “Hey, boys, just grab a seat wherever you like. I’ll bring you menus in a second. Coffee all around?”

When they all grunted yes, she grabbed three mugs and the fresh brewed pot of coffee. She poured their coffee and returned quickly with milk and a creamer. She handed out menus and waited while they looked them over, enjoying the view. It wasn’t often that such good looking men graced her small diner.

Although Cas didn’t need to eat, he’d learned that in smaller towns it looked odd if he didn’t. He waited for Dean to order his steak and eggs along with a side of biscuits and gravy before placing his own order of biscuits. He didn’t always know what was appropriate and relied on Dean to demonstrate. Sam went with a full stack of hotcakes.

Sam didn’t pull his computer out until their meal had been served and mostly eaten and a few more people entered the diner. It was unlikely the vamp had entered one of the few homes or trailers to be found in this tiny high desert town, so there had to be something close. He found it in moments on the Rachel home page. Six miles southeast of Rachel there was an old abandoned mine. It was the only logical place for the vamps to nest.

The woman who’d served them came over to refill their coffees. “You boys going to Area 51?” she asked.

“No, ma’am,” Sam answered. “We’re just on a little road trip. Is there anywhere near here to stay?”

“I’ve got three rooms if you want them. You can have them for a week. Someone’s got the whole trailer booked after that,” she offered.

“Great, we’ll take ‘em for the full week,” Dean accepted.

Cas and Sam just stared at him dumbfounded. It was rare that they stayed in any one place for a week. Grinning, Dean snarked, “What? I’ve always wanted to see Area 51.”

~*~

They put off the hunt until the next day, spending the rest of the day and night getting ready. It was the first time they’d ever stayed at a motel that was a trailer, but it had the benefit of no other guests and therefore, no neighbors. Cas had booked out on them, telling them he’d return to them as soon as he could.

~*~

Dean and Sam were at the entrance to the mine at sunrise the next day, loaded down with weapons and the water Sam insisted they needed. It all went to hell faster than they expected and they were captured fairly quickly. Expecting four or five of the bloodsuckers, they were unprepared for a dozen of them. They felt a series of explosions about eleven hours in, but didn’t think anything of it. They were too busy trying to escape and stay alive.

They staggered out of the mine seventy-five hours after they entered it, wanting nothing more than sleep, a hot shower, and some chow. Warren Zevon and his chic werewolf accompanied them back to Rachel. Sam briefly wondered when Dean had recorded it.

As hungry as they were, they opted to shower first. They were too filthy to go and eat in the dinner. Once Dean washed the stench off of him, he scarfed down a bag of chips, a package of nuts, and a granola bar. He’d barely finished his last bite before he was sound asleep. Sam saw him sleeping and decided that he needed sleep more than food, and he too was soon fast asleep.

Dean was still sleeping deeply 10 hours later, when a dip in the bed startled him awake. He rolled over and cracked an eye open. “Cas?” he rasped. “Where’ve you been?”

“Dean… I, I,” he began brokenly.

Having never heard this particular broken tone from Castiel, Dean awakened fully. Sitting up, his eyes scanned the man sitting far too close. He looked - - wrecked.

“What’s going on, Cas?” he asked as gently as he knew how.

“It’s gone, Dean. It’s all gone,” he muttered, eyes red rimmed and wet with unshed tears.

“What would that be?”

In answer, Castiel pinned Dean to the bed with a look and placed the heel of his hand on Dean’s forehead. Images flashed across his mind, too fast to fully understand and more horrific than anything he’d ever been exposed to. “What am I seeing here, Cas?” he asked, sounding just as broken as the angel.

“The end of the world as you knew it.”

~*~

Dean woke Sam, still unsure about what had happened while they were in the mine. Cas allowed Sam the same access to his memories and then the brothers attempted to make sense of what they’d witnessed.

They started with their phones. Neither of them were able to get a signal so Sam fired up his laptop. The Inn’s Internet signal was still working allowing them to read news from the beginning of the event. They were able to see video of the massive ships that encircled the Earth along with the smaller ships that had emerged from the larger ships, and the beams that had taken the vast majority of the world’s population. There was even footage of the creatures that fed upon humans. One brave reporter managed to interview one of the creatures; the tall, ugly humanoid called his species the Wraith - - right before the thing sucked the young man dry, turning him into an aged mummy before a horrified world.

Videos showed the massive panic that gripped nation after nation as seasoned reporters tried and failed to stay professional. Their hysteria was broadcast to the world, which only served to ramp up the watching audience’s terror. To Dean’s practiced hunter eyes, it appeared as though the Wraith were playing with them, inciting the maximum amount of fear for their own enjoyment.

The world’s military hurled their aircraft and missiles at the invaders - - all to no avail. Civilian aircraft were piloted by volunteers in a worldwide coordinated effort and crashed into the alien ships in a futile attempt to bring down the weirdly configured craft. Not one aircraft survived their encounter with the Wraith ships. Nukes were fired into space, and they all exploded uselessly against the alien ship’s shields.

The last news reports showed the ships firing upon the Earth from space, destroying every major urban center with a population of more than a million, military bases, primary seats of government, and every satellite circling the planet, throwing modern communication into total disarray. Any news after that was more personal; people posting their experiences on various social media platforms, detailing how they survived, where they were going, pleas for others to gather here or there, or to listen to the radio. For those that had no Internet connection, the radio became their major source of information.

Sam glared at Castiel, “How many, Cas? How many people are gone or dead?”

“By my estimate, there are a few million people left on the planet, Sam,” the angel admitted.

“And where the fuck were you when this was going down?” Dean shouted.

“Bearing witness,” Cas said simply.

“And none of the angels interfered?” Sam inquired reasonably.

“No, not that I could tell. I can no longer sense any angels. Or demons for that matter. I’ve been cut off from heaven,” he informed them.

“Why didn’t you come get us?” Dean demanded.

“You and Sam were in the safest place possible. If you had been in any real trouble, I would have come to you,” the angel acknowledged.

Rage crossed Dean’s face. “You left us there on purpose!”

“Yes, Dean, I did. I rebelled for you. I defied God for you. And I made sure you survived the end of the world. I saved who I loved,” he shouted, getting into Dean’s space, spitting words into his face. “And for all of that I paid, Dean. Being cut off from heaven means that I’ll slowly lose my Grace.”

Sam forgotten, Dean continued to rail, “I’m not worth it, Cas. Don’t you get that? I’m not worth it.”

“You are to me,” Cas confessed.

Dean wasn’t stupid, he’d known, somewhere deep inside, he’d known that Cas had developed feelings for him. Worse, his feelings for the angel were far from platonic. It wasn’t exactly love for him, not yet, but close enough; he wanted him, wanted to teach him about the pleasure he could get from his body, wanted to fuck him up against a wall, wanted to take him hard so that all either one of them could do was feel. He’d stomped on those feelings, burying them deep, ignoring them at every turn. He thought if he ever did take Castiel to bed, fucking him wouldn’t be enough. Nothing would be enough until he owned Cas, body and soul. And now was not the time or the place. He crushed whatever he was feeling yet again. “What do we do now?” he asked, sounding more like a child than he did when he had been a child.

“We live, Dean. As best as we can.”

~*~

Rachel was totally deserted. But, the power was still on, so they stayed. They were able to pick up a radio station coming twenty miles out of Vegas. They’d gone through every house, taking food, weapons, and a surprising amount of drugs. They found gas cans and siphoned every vehicle dry. And they tried to get used to their new normal.

~*~

The Winchesters found it hard to settle down after being nomadic for so long. Even Cas wasn’t content to stay in one place for any length of time. And so they drove and went from place to place and state to state. Six months after the Wraith, they picked up a girl in Farley, Iowa. They’d decided to visit the baseball field featured in Field of Dreams in a nearby town. The girl had been standing in the middle of the road, and Dean had come close to hitting her.

She was tiny, standing no more than five feet and had short red hair. She’d been a college student when the Wraith came, and she didn’t know how she’d survived. She hit the road like so many others, trying to find her parents, but they, like everyone else in town, were gone. She told them her name was Tiffany but that everyone’d called her Itty Bitty, and she didn’t know what to do after she found the empty town, so she stayed just because the place was familiar. She told her story to the men hardly pausing for breath; speaking so fast they could barely understand her.

It soon became apparent, at least to Dean, that Itty Bitty had gone slowly crazy. Over the course of three weeks, he was able to piece together her story. She’d been unused to solitude and ill prepared to entertain herself. She’d managed to raid every pharmacy in a twenty-five mile radius, and she had a hell of a habit now. Still, Sam liked her well enough, and she wanted to stay with them, and so, they made room for her.

By this time Dean and Castiel had been sleeping together for three months. From the morning the angel had come to tell him and Sam about the end of the world, Dean felt Castiel’s eyes on him constantly, but in his innocence and uncertainty the angel never pushed for anything. And Dean couldn’t take his eyes off of Cas; till something as insignificant as the stretch of an arm lifting a snug t-shirt revealing a stripe of bare flesh or an accidental touch began to drive him crazy. The more he wanted Castiel, the worse his mood became. He spent a good portion of each day half hard and craving. He spent his nights tossing and turning, burning for Castiel.

It all came to a head one night in New Hope, in Buck’s County, Pennsylvania, an old, quaint and a once upon a time wealthy area. They scouted the town and didn’t find anyone. It was nearing the end of September and the trees were just starting to turn. The days were still warm and the night air was just starting to turn chill. They picked a house at random and Dean built a fire while Sam and Cas started dinner.

Based on the photos in the large, well-maintained house, a family of six had once lived here; a husband, wife, and four children. There was a fine layer of dust on all the furniture, but everything else was neat and clean.

They’d found some chickens running wild before they picked this house and had searched for eggs. They found eight and took them all. The cabinets were filled with a large variety of canned goods. Cas decided on cheddar cheese soup and while that was warming, Sam fried up two cans of corn beef hash and scrambled the eggs.

It was a simple meal, seasoned with healthy appetites. Cas still didn’t need to eat and he often didn’t, but with each day that passed, he craved food more and more. He also craved Dean more each day, and thought he hid it well. As each day passed, he was becoming more human, and his appetites grew along with his humanity.

He ate a cup of the soup enjoying the way the hot liquid warmed his belly, and how the thickness of the liquid felt against his tongue. Dean pushed some eggs into his mouth and he chewed automatically, liking the creamy texture of the fresh eggs. He approached each new experience with gusto, and unabashed eagerness. His enthusiasm was contagious, and his joy in everything drove Dean half mad with lust and wanting.

Dean took care of the dishes and joined the other two men by the fireplace where they were setting up a game of Monopoly. Sam was trying to explain the rules to Cas, who looked adorably confused. “Don’t worry, Cas, I’ll help you out. Sam plays a cutthroat game of Monopoly so ignore everything he told you,” Dean advised.

They played a short version, Sam cheating to win, Dean cheating to let Castiel win, and Castiel with an eager, earnest expression that had Dean half hard.

Sam won after the hour-long game and said goodnight, shooting Dean a meaningful glance. Last week, he’d found a few minutes alone with his brother and read him the riot act about leading innocent angels on.

Dean watched him go in the opposite direction of the master bedroom. Sammy was far from subtle. And Dean had tired of waiting weeks ago.

He stood and banked the fire, and then held his hand out for Castiel. “Come on.” Dean was done waiting.

Cas took Dean’s hand and followed where he led. The bed was large and inviting, with the comforter turned down. At some point, probably when he unloaded the car and distributed their bags, Sam had made a point of coming in here and changing the bedding, making the room as comfortable and as appealing as he knew how. There were four plump king size pillows that looked soft and comfortable.

Cas was looking confused again. Dean moved to stand in front of him, for once invading _his_ space. “If you end up regretting this, I’ll never forgive you,” he told the angel before cupping his face and kissing him roughly.

Castiel clung to Dean, deepening the kiss before breaking away. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t want this from you, but I can’t help it, Dean. I only know I want it more than anything I can remember wanting.”

“Shh. It’s okay to want this, sweetheart. I promise you.”

Dean slowly unbuttoned the long sleeve shirt Cas was wearing, his fingers brushing bare flesh, causing deep shivers. He thumbed hardened nipples, gloating over the deep moans his touch caused.

“Dean, I want - - I need…” Castiel whispered.

“I know, Cas. I’m gonna give you everything,” Dean promised. He unbuttoned Castiel’s jeans and slid them down slender legs along with the black briefs. He removed the angel’s socks, taking the time to kiss the arches of his feet.

“Go lie down.”

Dean quickly stripped off his own clothing, and retrieved the lube in his knapsack. He joined the naked man on the bed, his eyes sliding up and down Cas’ lean body.

He gathered Cas into his arms, kissing him, his strong hands sweeping up and down Cas’ back, feeling the play of muscles beneath his hands. Dean broke the kiss so that he could slide down and taste his angel.

Licking at already hardened nipples with the broad of his tongue, Castiel’s body twisted and writhed under the onslaught. Dean pinned him down, teasing and determined to bind Castiel to him.

Moving down Castiel’s body, he asked his angel to turn over. Cas moved with no hesitation. Greedy to taste him, Dean spread the globes of Castiel’s ass, licking and gently biting the small puckered hole.

Castiel spread his legs, pushing his ass into Dean’s face. The intimacy was overwhelming to both men, and Dean reveled at how responsive his angel was.

Flipping Castiel over, Dean pushed his face into Cas’ groin, inhaling deeply. He could smell the musk of rising passion, and the angel’s own unique scent; sandalwood and cinnamon. It was a heady scent and utterly delicious.

Dean took Castiel’s thick, hard cock into his mouth, lubed fingers brushing his hole and tightened balls. Cheeks hollowed, he sucked Cas, his tongue swirling round and round the plump head of Cas’ cock. He could taste the bitter salt of precome from the leaking cock filling his mouth.

Castiel’s deep throaty moans spurred Dean on. Cas began sweating, helplessly thrusting his hips, his fingers threaded through Dean’s hair, clenching, forcing his cock down Dean’s throat.

Dean relaxed his throat, and gladly took what Castiel was giving him. Castiel started to gasp, his words wrenched from him, “Dean, yes, yes, Dean.” He gave one final thrust before his body stiffened and then he was pouring himself down his lover’s throat.

Dean pulled off of him and took Castiel in his arms, gentling him through the aftermath. He swept his hands against sweat slick flesh, feeling the small tremors still affecting his lover, relishing the feel of sleek muscle.

Looking into his lover’s sated eyes, Dean grinned, “I take it that felt good?”

“Dean, that was, was…” Cas panted.

“Yeah, it is pretty hard to describe.” Dean rooted around on the bed and found the lube. He slicked himself, and grabbed Castiel’s hand, guiding it to his throbbing cock. “Touch me, sweetheart.”

Castiel grasped Dean’s cock, at first with hesitation, his confidence growing when he heard Dean’s moans. Dean fucked up into the tight grip, his pupils blown, pleasure pouring off of him.

“Fuck, Castiel, that’s so good. It’s perfect,” he groaned, coming hard into his lover’s hand.

In the aftermath, Castiel looked at Dean’s body, boldly, admiring the hard planes and strong musculature. “Was that all right?” he asked uncertainly.

“Geez, Cas. I just came harder than I’ve come in who the fuck knows how long. It was great, babe,” he rasped hoarsely. He wiped them both down with a corner of the sheet before pulling the comforter over them.

They kissed, long and slow before falling asleep, limbs intertwined, Castiel’s head resting on Dean’s chest, his heartbeat lulling him.

~*~

Several hours later, Dean was woken by hands stroking him, and small cat like licks, and soft, sucking kisses. The darkness added to the unreality of what was happening to his body before he remembered that Castiel was in his bed.

He felt the drizzle of warmed lube on his cock, which slowly hardened. “Is this okay with you?” Castiel whispered into the dark.

Groaning, Dean whispered back, “There will _never_ be a time that it isn’t okay for you to touch me, Cas.”

Cas rolled on top of Dean, leaning down to kiss him. Dean gripped his ass, starting to rut against Castiel, thrilled that his angel was taking the lead. Cas was aggressive, owning his own pleasure. Cas came on Dean’s belly, and he took ruthless advantage, rolling the angel over, thrusting against the boneless body beneath him.

“Come for me, Dean,” Castiel groaned, still shuddering in bliss.

“God, I should have known that you’d be like this,” Dean rasped. He thrust a few more times, and moaned out his pleasure.

Castiel kissed Dean gently, tiny, biting kisses that had Dean wishing he could get hard again. “I want to do everything with you, Dean,” Cas confessed.

“That’s good, Cas, because I have plans for you.”

“What sort of plans?” Cas growled.

“I’ve got a list, sweetheart, but we’ll take it slow.”

“Tell me,” Cas demanded. “Because I have a list of my own.”

Dean was rarely embarrassed when it came to sex, but Cas was different somehow. He was glad the room remained in darkness. “I want to kiss you until we can’t breathe. I want to lick every inch of your body and then do it again. I want to fuck your mouth, and I want to be inside you, Cas,” he admitted. “I want to spend hours eating you out. You tasted so fucking good, and I didn’t have nearly enough of you. I also want you inside me. I want your beautiful cock to pound me until I scream in pleasure.”

“You’ve never done that before, have you?”

“No. I’ve never trusted anyone enough to take me like that,” Dean acknowledged. He’d topped plenty of times, both men and women. Bottoming was a whole other story. The one time he’d come close, he had changed his mind, despite how fucking good it had felt.

“You’d trust me enough?” Castiel wanted to know.

“I trust you with everything I am, Castiel.”

“You’ll teach me?” Cas asked.

“I’ll teach you anything you want to learn, Cas. Anything. Everything. I plan on learning every inch of your body.”

Castiel shuddered, imagining all of Dean’s intensity focused on him and his pleasure. “It’s good to know that our lists are the same,” he said, bending his head and taking Dean’s softened cock into his mouth.

~*~

Sam found himself alone the next morning. He’d heard his brother and Cas the night before and was glad that Dean had finally made a move on the angel. It was obvious to him that the two had been pining for each other for quite some time. Well, maybe not pining, but hot for each other for sure.

He went and gathered as many eggs as he could find, frying some up for himself, and leaving the rest of them for Dean or Cas to cook whenever they managed to make it out of bed. He left a note and went to see if he could find anything interesting in the shops. He thought he might even look for a library and perhaps get a few books to entertain himself with. In any case, he wanted to give his brother some small bit of privacy.

They stayed in New Hope for ten days. Dean was ashamed that he’d left Sam alone for much of that time. Sam didn’t mind and even managed to catch some fish in the Delaware River, a welcome change from canned food. He found more than enough to entertain himself, and if he was lonely, he kept it to himself.

But even ten days wasn’t enough time for Dean to have had his fill of Castiel. They left the bed to eat and to shower, the rest of their time devoted to making love. He figured they had a lifetime to make love, and it was guilt over Sam that finally persuaded him that it was time to move.

When they did drive out of New Hope, Dean was sated and sore, and couldn’t stop grinning. He sang along with whatever tape Sam had playing, his mood as light as it had ever been.

And no matter where they stayed after New Hope, Dean refused to sleep without Castiel by his side.

~*~

Three months after they met her, Itty Bitty took a walk into the woods one night and overdosed. She left a note, and the three men buried her near the tree she died under. Something in Sam broke. He became more intense than ever and quiet. He rarely laughed anymore.

Dean didn’t think Sam had been in love with Itty Bitty; he thought his brother had felt responsible for the girl. Telling him that in this new world people had to take responsibility for their own actions didn’t help. Pointing out that Itty Bitty had a hell of a habit before they’d ever met her didn’t help either.

Dean let it go and hoped that Sam would get over things in time.

~*~

Two months after they buried Itty Bitty, they were in Taos, New Mexico. They were walking around the Plaza when Dean spied a group of women coming toward them. Generally, when they met people, it was the men that came to greet them. Most people, wary of three men traveling together and protective of any women or children living with them liked to scope them out before inviting them to eat with them, or stay for a day or two. Seeing eight or nine women without men or children was unusual.

A tall woman in her late 50’s greeted them. She introduced herself as Marlene, introducing the other women with her. “We’re pretty isolated out here, gentlemen. We’re up at the art colony, and if you’d care to do some minor repairs for us, we’d be happy to offer you a home cooked meal,” she said.

“I’m up for some home cooking,” Sam said in his new, quiet way.

The women gathered up their art supplies and piled into two pickups. Dean followed them the short distance. All told, there were twenty women, five men; two of whom were married to each other, three of whom were married to four of the women, and eight children living at the colony. The men sheepishly explained that the sort of repairs required were beyond their abilities.

Dean and Sam, with Cas helping, put their backs to the repairs the women wanted done. They kept coming out and offering snacks and cold beer. A number of them made it clear that if they wanted, sex was also on offer.

After they finished their work, Sam disappeared, and Dean was sure that he was taking at least one woman up on her offer. He was glad and hoped that getting laid would help him get back to normal.

He’d flirted with five or six of the women, trading sexual innuendos all day. He knew he could have any of them, or all of them if that’s what he wanted. But, it was nothing more than a game to him.

Dean didn’t know if the same could be said for Castiel. A pretty blonde had been paying particular attention to him throughout the day, fetching him food, beer, and lemonade, interrupting frequently to ask if he needed anything, managing to touch him every time. The two were now seated close to each other having an intense, private conversation, and Dean felt homicidal.

Which is how he knew he’d fallen hopelessly in love. Dean couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized it before this minute.

Dean would be happy to stay in Taos for a while, if only for Sam’s sake, but he needed to make a few things clear to every one, including Castiel. Sauntering up to the chatty blonde and his lover, Dean stood there smirking, waiting for Cas to notice him.

It only took a moment. “Dean,” Cas said, his face lighting up.

“Castiel,” Dean growled, his tone one that was seldom heard outside the confines of their bed.

“Annie was just telling me about her art techniques. She offered to paint me.”

“Did she?” he rasped angrily.

“D- Dean, is everything all right?” Cas asked in confusion.

“Come here, Cas,” he ordered.

Cas stood without hesitation, moving into Dean’s space.

Dean ran his thumb across Castiel’s lips, gratified when he closed his eyes, moving into the touch. He made eye contact with Annie for a brief moment, making sure she was taking this all in. Returning his focus to the man in front of him, Dean threaded his fingers into Castiel’s soft, dark hair and then bent to take him in a wet, hungry, open mouthed kiss.

He could hear the catcalls and wolf whistles, but immediately put them out of his mind. He’d started this to make a point, but what he wanted to say had changed. He began this to tell everyone _'hands off, he’s mine'_ , but now it was about telling Cas he was loved.

Dean broke off the kiss, pulling Cas deeper into his arms. Nuzzling his lover, he whispered, “I love you, Castiel.”

“Thank god,” Cas answered. “I love you too, Dean.”

~*~

They stayed at the art colony for an entire month. It was a respite from what their lives had been for far longer than they could remember. They had seldom met such open, free spirited people and they relearned how to laugh and how to grab on to happiness. Sammy’s sunny smile could be seen more and more often as he slowly healed. And Dean and Cas fell deeper in love.

The women who shared Sam were happy to take turns with seemingly no jealousy. Several of them eventually confessed that they were trying to get pregnant. When Dean and Cas were approached for help on that front, Dean was more than willing to donate for the cause, but he refused on Castiel’s behalf. Neither of them knew what would happen if an angel that still had part of his Grace got a human woman pregnant. They couldn’t take the chance and they had no desire to inflict pain on these happy, generous people.

Dean and Cas were given their own small house, and they treated this time like it was a honeymoon. It had been years since Dean lived his life without looking over his shoulder. The women of the colony had gotten Dean’s message loud and clear, and made sure to stay away from Castiel, recognizing that Dean was possessive and potentially dangerous.

A few days before they left, Sam was asked to jump the broom with several of the women he’d been sleeping with. It was symbolic only as he wouldn’t be staying. He’d given it some thought, but in the end decided that he’d be leaving with Dean and Castiel.

Castiel asked Dean to jump the broom with him. Dean immediately said yes, and was pissed that he hadn’t thought to ask first. The ceremony took place at sunrise and the entire rest of the day was devoted to partying. Dean was more affected by the simple ceremony than he’d expected to be. Wild cheers broke out after he and Cas jumped the broom holding hands.

Dean gathered Castiel in his arms and they kissed tenderly. “You realize this is as good as married.”

Castiel’s blue eyes darkened as he took in Dean’s strong, fine features, the bow of his mouth and deep-set green eyes. “I do realize it, Dean. There is no one else in this or any universe that I want.”

“You have to know I feel the same way,” Dean whispered, his expressive eyes filling with tears.

“Husband,” Castiel marveled.

“Yeah, Castiel. Husband,” Dean agreed. “Come on, let’s go join the party.”

~*~

When they left, at least five women claimed to be pregnant. The men promised they would visit the next time they were in the area.

But it wasn’t to be. Dean, Sam, and Castiel had yet another date with destiny that would prevent their return, but they were fondly remembered by all that had met them.

~*~

They continued on their journey, driving from state to state, stopping when and where they felt like it. They were able to find food easily along with gas for the Impala. They raided drug stores and pot fields, and occasionally found stashes of coke. Drugs and sex were the new currency. They had their own stashes of drugs and weapons secreted all over the country.

They spent six memorable weeks in a mansion on Martha’s Vineyard. The house had a 20,000-Watt standby generator allowing them to dig in and get comfortable. They raided homes and stores for movies they’d never had the time to see and watched dozens of them. They went clamming every day and set lobster traps. They glutted themselves on the fresh seafood, and when they got sick of it, Dean went hunting, bringing down a plump deer. When he finished dressing it and making several meals out of it, Dean decided he had to have a hamburger, so he took a drive and found a cow to slaughter.

During their crisscrossing of America, they found three ghosts haunting deserted houses. They got rid of the ghosts, who seemed more confused than threatening. Of the old monsters, gods, and creatures, they couldn’t find a trace. Dean and Sam speculated endlessly, wondering if they were gone or dormant, just waiting for humanity to rebuild.

Castiel refused to answer or offer an opinion on the matter. Dean was unsure if it was because he didn’t know or if he didn’t care. Maybe the monsters that had come from space had taken Earth’s monsters with them. There was no way to tell. And it no longer mattered.

~*~

Dean lost Sammy twenty-eight months after the Wraith.

Trouble still had a way of finding the Winchester boys, whether they wanted it or not. Some pockets of people were friendlier than others. One or two groups of people thought robbing them would be easy. They certainly didn’t have anything worth taking. Everything was just lying around. It didn’t take much work to get weapons, food, gas, or drugs. Grass was a little harder to come by, but Dean carried enough of it to give away, all in a bid to avoid trouble. Jewelry and money had no meaning anymore and so they didn’t bother with it. Except for Dean’s amulet, which was more about sentimental value than anything else.

For some of the people the men met, it was often about violence, and Dean, Sam, and Castiel had encountered any number of groups intent on fighting them just for the sake of fighting.

The day before Sam died, they’d encountered just such a group. They were headed to a small North Carolina county called Caswell when an elderly man waved them down. Dean pulled over to the obviously distraught and battered man.

“Boy, am I glad to see you fellows,” the man said.

“What can we do you for?” Dean asked.

“My granddaughter’s been taken by a bunch of skinheads that rolled into town a week ago. They grabbed her about three hours ago. Ain’t a man in town with a pair of balls,” he spat. “I need some help getting her back.”

“Dean,” Cas interrupted. “This isn’t a good idea.”

Sam turned around to glare at the angel. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No, Sam. I’m very serious. I have a bad feeling about this,” Cas stated.

Shooting him a disgusted look, Sam leaned forward. “Get in, Mister. We’ll get your granddaughter back.”

The man scrambled into the back seat and gave Dean directions to the house where his granddaughter was being held. “Them boys are big and they’re armed. I went to try and get her, and got beat up for my troubles,” he warned the men.

“How many are there?” Dean inquired.

“Six.”

“Piece of cake,” Dean said, the adrenaline already starting to flood his body.

They pulled up in front of the house the old man indicated. “What’s your granddaughter’s name,” Sammy inquired.

“Amanda. Amanda Baker. She’s sixteen.”

The men got out of the car, Dean and Cas each moving to one side of the house. They sent Amanda’s grandfather to wait across the street. Sammy walked boldly to the door and knocked loudly.

A large, bald, heavily tattooed man answered. “Yeah?” he grunted.

“I’m here to pick up Amanda,” he said.

The man peered around and then laughed. “By yourself? You may look faggy with that long hair of yours, but you’ve got a set on you.”

‘That’s cute. Go get Amanda for me,’ Sammy demanded.

“We ain’t quite done with her.”

“I’m telling you that you are.”

The man turned to yell. “Hey guys. We’ve got us a long haired freak that wants Amanda.” The sounds of heavy footsteps could be heard as the man stepped out, pushing Sam. He didn’t attack until his friends were out of the house.

Dean jumped into the fray, fists flying. Sam had already put one man down as had Dean. Cas ran into the house to get Amanda, dragging out the brutalized girl and delivering her into her grandfather’s loving arms before he joined the fight.

The four skinheads still standing pulled out knives. Dean grinned when he saw that, and he, Sam, and Cas pulled out the wicked looking blades that once upon a time had killed demons and angels. They incapacitated the four men quickly, leaving them bleeding and moaning in the middle of the street.

Amanda and her grandfather came over to the fallen men. Dean handed his gun over to the old man, who handed it to his granddaughter. She put a bullet in each man’s head, spat on them, and walked away.

Castiel was shocked, but he realized that in this new world, animals like these men could not be allowed to live. There was no law but the law of survival. Had mercy been shown to the six dead men, they would have just moved on to the next town and their next victim.

He looked at his husband and his brother-in-law. They were beat up, and bleeding, and needed medical attention. Castiel couldn’t stay in this town. He insisted that they return to Virginia.

They returned to the house they’d slept in the night before. Castiel cleaned both men up and cooked dinner. He was angry, but he couldn’t fault Dean or Sam for getting involved. It had been obvious to him that the men would have killed that sweet child. They had an early night, Dean attempting to soothe his husband and tease him out of his bad mood.

Castiel woke suddenly at 2:30 AM. “Dean, get up. Something’s wrong.”

Dean woke quickly, hearing the panic in Castiel’s voice. “What is it?” he demanded.

“Sammy.”

Dean didn’t bother to get dressed and ran naked to Sammy’s room, Cas on his heels.

It was already too late.

Dean grabbed up his brother, cradling him and rocking him as tears ran down his face. “Can you do anything?” Dean pleaded with his husband.

Castiel put his hand on Sam. “No, Dean. I’m sorry. I, I don’t have enough Grace left. Sam had an aneurysm. Likely caused by the fight yesterday. ”

Dean clutched his brother, and sat with him until first light. Cas came and gently removed Sam from Dean’s arms. He took his husband into their bedroom, and went to prepare Sam’s body.

~*~

They buried Sam under a large tree in a tiny cemetery in the back of an old church. Dean fished the toy soldier out of the Impala, thinking it should be with Sam. He spent the next two days, alone and drunk. Castiel gave him the time, keeping a close watch on him, helpless to ease his husband through this.

He studied Dean’s maps and made the decision about where to go next. Then he muscled his way into the room Dean had secluded himself in, strong-armed him into a shower, fed him, and insisted he sleep. When he awoke, he made love to him, forcing his husband to acknowledge that he still lived.

~*~

While Dean had secluded himself, Castiel had decided that he needed a period of time to heal. He’d picked out a tiny unincorporated town in Oregon called Marial for them to make their home. It was set among mountains and forest, and bordered a river. There were walking trails and an abundance of wildlife, including elk to hunt. The weather was temperate, and often rainy.

It was so far off the beaten path that Cas figured they would be left alone for as long as they needed. They bided there for eight months, at first occasionally venturing out to nearby towns to get supplies, but mostly allowing the clean air and nature to heal them. After three months they traveled further afield, sometimes for a week or two at a time, mainly to keep up with what was happening in the rest of the country.

They spent their time making love and talking, preparing elaborate meals with what they had on hand or could find and playing games. Dean taught Castiel how to fish and Castiel learned some magic tricks from a book, which he refused to teach Dean. Their bond only became stronger as the solitude forced them to rely on each other.

~*~

Three years after the Wraith, Cas woke Dean in the middle of the night. “We’ve got to go, Dean.”

“Cas, it’s fucking 3 AM. Can’t it wait till sunrise?” he demanded.

“No, I don’t think so. It’s going to take us a week to get there. We need to leave now. We really can’t be late,” Cas explained.

Grumbling, Dean woke and climbed out of bed. He knew Cas wouldn’t have asked unless it was important, but he didn’t have to like it.

~*~

Sheppard and McKay stepped away from the mirror and immediately pulled their weapons, looking around. Even though the telemetry indicated a virtually empty world, they still expected to be met by MP’s. “Looks like one of the warehouses,” Rodney remarked.

It soon became clear that they were alone. They quickly loaded the mirror onto the handcart. It was lighter than it looked. “I can’t believe they left such dangerous, advanced tech around where anyone could get to it,” Rodney complained.

“Hide it in plain sight. It actually makes sense,” John said.

“Well, good thing for us. Who knows if the elevators are still operating?” He pulled out his scanner and swung it around the room. “The ZPM isn’t here. Looks like we get to the SGC after all.”

“Let’s just hope someone left a car or two around. We can drive to Nellis and see about getting something to fly us outta here,” John quipped, making this seem like any other routine mission.

They’d reached the exit and John signaled for quiet. He didn’t really expect to find anyone, but felt that caution along every step of the way would be the only thing that would get them home safely.

Gripping his P-90, he opened the door slowly. Only to be met by two men leaning against the sweetest ’67 Impala John had ever seen. Stepping outside, he didn’t lower his weapon despite the fact that the two men were unarmed. Pointing his chin at the car, he said, “Sweet ride.”

“Yeah, she is. I’m Dean Winchester and this is Castiel,” Dean introduced himself and his husband. “You can lower your weapon. If we wanted to hurt you, you’d be dead.”

“Hello Dean. I’m Colonel Sheppard and the man behind me is Dr. McKay,” John answered keeping his gun aimed at the two men.

Smirking, Dean crooked his finger. “Look over here, Colonel,” he instructed, popping the trunk. “Like I said, if we wanted to hurt you, you’d be dead.”

John briefly glanced at the contents of the trunk. It was filled with dozens of guns, rifles, assault weapons, knives, scopes, a crossbow, arrows, and boxes of ammo. He thought he saw the hilt of sword as well. And that was only what John could see. He lowered his P-90. “Okay. What can we do for you gentlemen?”

“It’s not so much what you can do for us, but what we can do for you,” Dean informed John. “Cas here has a gift for knowing when folks are in trouble or need help.”

John acknowledged Cas for the first time. He’d immediately sized Dean up as the bigger threat and Dean’s body language was protective toward the other man. Deciding that having a local guide would be helpful; John relaxed into his customary slouch. He motioned to Rodney and he came out dragging the handcart.

“That’s a handy talent, Cas. Maybe you could drive us to wherever they keep the aircraft on base.”

“No can do, Colonel. There are no aircraft,” Dean said.

It was the worst-case scenario. “What exactly happened here?”

“Where’ve you two been that you don’t know?” Dean demanded.

“Dean,” Cas interrupted. “That’s a quantum mirror. I think they must be from another reality.”

Rodney and Dean both looked at Cas in open mouth amazement. “I’m not even gonna ask how you know that,” Dean announced.

Rodney’s eyes narrowed. “Are you a scientist?” he wanted to know.

“No, but I used to be…”

“He used to work here and he heard a lot of shit,” Dean interjected, cutting Cas off. He wasn’t quite ready to trust Sheppard or McKay and he didn’t want to get into a discussion about their former lives as a hunter and an angel of the Lord.

Sheppard noted that Dean had no problem with the concept of alternate realities, which aroused his suspicions. He supposed that the two men _could_ have had previous experience with the concept. He worked and lived in another galaxy, and fought aliens, but the concept of alternate realities was hard even for him to swallow, despite the fact that he was actually _in_ another reality. Exchanging a look with Rodney, he saw they were on the same page. It would be stupid to navigate this reality alone when there were two people willing to help them.

“Cas is right. We’re from an alternate reality and there’s something this reality has that we need,” Sheppard admitted. “Now, care to tell me what happened here?”

“An alien race called the Wraith attacked. They killed a lot of our people outright. The rest they took. My brother and I were bounty hunters and our bad guys went to ground in a mine. By the time we got them, Sam and I missed all the fun,” Dean told them.

The story sounded simple enough to John, but he was well aware that lying with a half-truth would sound good to inexperienced ears. He’d done it enough to recognize the statement for what it was. He let it go for now. If these guys were ready to take him and Rodney to Cheyenne Mountain, the truth didn’t matter to their mission. “How long were you down in the mine?”

“A little over three days,” Dean said.

“The Wraith culled this entire planet in three days? ” Rodney asked in horror. “Do you have any intel? How many hives?” he demanded.

“Worldwide? About two hundred and fifty ships,” Cas answered.

“ _Two hundred fifty_ ,” John gasped.

“We need that Zed, John, and we need it fast,” Rodney announced.

“Take a walk with me,” John invited Dean. They walked a few hundred yards, turning to look back at the two men they’d left. “I don’t have time to be subtle here, Winchester. We need to be in Colorado Springs as quickly as possible otherwise what happened here could happen in my reality. I’ll give you whatever it is you want with the exception of McKay.”

“I don’t want anything, Sheppard. We’ll get you there as fast as we can. But, we’ll have to stay off the bigger Interstates and stick with secondary roads and the older highways. We’re looking at a 1,000 miles give or take,” Dean offered. “It took Cas and me a week to get here and we were 750 miles away.”

“Straight through?”

“No. We did a lot of stopping along the way. We loaded up on food and ammo. Gotta get it when and where you can.”

“Both of you driving?”

“Yeah, no. Cas doesn’t drive,” Dean laughed.

“But I do.”

“Just so you know, I call that car Baby. Fuck it up and I won’t be happy,” Dean stated.

John swept his hand through his hair, settling on the nape of his neck, a sure sign that he was uncomfortable. “I know we don’t know each other, but my gut is telling me I can trust you. If something happens to me, help McKay complete the mission and then make him get his ass home,” he pleaded, letting Dean see everything. “I call Rodney baby.”

“Got it. Mind telling me what’s in Colorado Springs.”

“A power source. And we need to bring the mirror with us.”

“We’ll strap it to the roof. It’ll be tight with all your gear though. Can any of it be left behind?”

“We’ve got some tools that can be left if you’ve got the same ones. Mostly we’ve got food and weapons. And a lot of C-4. ”

A wide smile crossed Dean’s face. “A man after my own heart. Okay, we ride tight. And our food and yours gets shared out. That’ll save us some time if we don’t need to forage,” Dean decided.

They returned to Rodney and Cas. “All done bonding?” Rodney asked snidely.

“Just getting a few details ironed out, McKay,” John told his lover.

They found a tarp and rope and secured the mirror. Dean and Rodney quickly went through the tools he’d brought with him from Atlantis; Dean telling him which ones could be left behind. The rest of John and Rodney’s gear was stowed and they set out for Rachel, the closest town to Area 51, along the unpaved road. They’d spend the night at the Inn despite the bad memories the tiny town held for Dean. He needed to get his maps in order anyway.

Normally, it wouldn’t matter how long it took to get anywhere. But John had made the urgent nature of his mission clear. It was too late to set out anyway. It would be sunset soon and the Nevada crossing was fairly troublesome. Most people who crossed into Nevada were on their way to Vegas and the border patrols and blockades began collecting their tolls early on. People going to California soon learned to avoid Nevada entirely. Dean had no desire to do an end run through the Nevada blockade at night.

The four men discussed the route, calculating how fast they could make it to Cheyenne Mountain. The fastest way would be through Utah and neither Dean nor Cas mentioned the rumors they’d heard about travelling through that state, figuring the four of them could handle any trouble that came their way. And they began the slow process of getting to know each other.

~*~

Dean set his alarm for 2:00 AM. It was enough time to eat a hot meal, and get close enough to the Utah border to wait for sunrise. It was the easiest time to get through the blockades. The men manning the blockades so early were only interested in collecting their tolls.

Soon after the Wraith, Sam had insisted on mounting additional headlights on the Impala. Dean had put up a stink insisting they would ruin the look of the car. In the end, Sam had his way. They both knew how many dark, unpaved roads they’d needed to navigate in the past. With the power failing in so many cities and towns, it was more important than ever to be able to see where they were going. Now, every time Dean had to drive in the dark, he sent a silent thank you to Sam.

The Impala pulled out of Rachel at 3 AM, slowly bumping over the unpaved Cabin Spring Road to reach the equally unpaved Alamo Road. They reached Old Corn Creek Road after 20 miles. Much of this road was also unpaved. The bumping was making Rodney slightly nauseous, but he kept that to himself. John turned often to look at him and even in the darkness he could see his mouth turned down in an unhappy grimace.

Corn Creek Road had the advantage of being adjacent to a lightly populated neighborhood and now of course, it was completely empty. They’d hit US 93 in about 20 miles. It took them nearly two hours to travel the 40 miles. During the day the scenery along Corn Creek was stunning. Dean and Castiel had driven this road on their way to Area 51 and had stopped for lunch. Three years later and the abundance of wildlife was still a novelty. As they ate, they saw Mule Deer, Desert Bighorn Sheep, Antelope, Rocky Mountain Goats, along with numerous varieties of rabbits, and birds. If they’d had more time, Dean would’ve gone hunting.

In the dark the only light came from the Impala and the occasional glowing eyes of the coyotes, mountain lions, and bobcats. Seeing the yellow-orange of eyes staring out from the inky blackness creeped Rodney out, so he stuck to playing games on his tablet. He was feeling generous and occasionally passed the tablet over to Castiel.

Right before they hit US 93, Dean pulled over. “Time for a potty break guys,” he joked.

Rodney and Cas took the opportunity to stretch their legs and to pee into the darkness. Dean rummaged around in the trunk, retrieved two small packages, pulled the custom-made package tray over the weapons compartment, and locked it down.

Tossing one of the packages to John, he ordered, “Don’t volunteer this, Sheppard. Hopefully they’ll be happy with one brick.”

Examining it, John frowned. “Is this what I think it is?”

“Yup, one pound of grass. And consider yourself lucky that I know where a few hundred pot farms are located coast to coast.”

“And this is what’ll take to cross over into Utah?” Rodney questioned.

“Yes, that’s what it takes here, but that changes from place to place,” Castiel answered. “We also carry aspirin, Valium, Oxy, stimulants of all kinds, downers, some heroin, peyote, and several pounds of cocaine. Human kind has always enjoyed mind altering substances,” he observed.

“Human kind?” Rodney repeated.

“Castiel’s a bit of a nerd,” Dean interjected. “Break’s over, guys. We’ve got about 75 miles on this road until we hit 319 and then it’s 20 miles to the Utah border. Which I’d like to get to just after the sun rises.”

“Any reason why?” John inquired.

“Yup. The men at the border won’t be interested in fucking or fighting that early.”

“Let’s move,” John hustled Rodney into the car. He wasn’t about to allow his lover to be used sexually by anyone. “That ever happen to you guys?” John questioned Dean.

“I’m a fighter, Sheppard. And I don’t pimp out Castiel,” he growled. “I guess here’s where I confess he’s my husband.”

~*~

US 93 was cleared of abandoned cars because it was one of the major roads into Las Vegas. There were more blockades the closer one got to Vegas. But for the first 100 miles into Nevada after the Utah border, there was only one, at least on 93. And, more importantly, two men ran the blockade covering 319, rather than the typical four men the deeper one got into Nevada. It was a seldom used road and no one wanted to waste man power on a border where five cars in a week was considered busy. I-80 was a whole different story. The Nevada portion of 80 had blockades every 50 miles or so. Dean avoided 80 the rest of the time because it was the road most likely to still have abandoned cars, making some parts impassable without a lot of time lost and work to push the cars off to the side.

Dean pulled over after they exited 93 to NV 319. “Take off your TAC vests,” he ordered John and Rodney. “And make sure your weapons are out of sight.”

They complied, placing their vests at their feet. Both were dressed in black camos and short sleeved black T-shirts. Dean scowled, and exited the car. He rummaged in the trunk for a few minutes, tossing a shirt over to Rodney when he returned. “Put this on. I don’t want to answer questions about why you two are dressed alike.”

“Why do I have to change?” McKay complained.

“No offense, McKay, but Sheppard looks more dangerous than you. I’d like to keep it that way,” Dean explained.

In the dim light of the car, Rodney could make out a Grateful Dead T-shirt. “Do I really look like a deadhead?” he bitched.

John snickered as Dean retorted, “No, but the border guards will see what we want them to see.”

Rodney stripped off his uniform shirt and donned the Dead T-shirt, which was several sizes too large. Dean hopped back in the car and drove the 20 miles to the Nevada-Utah border.

They arrived a few minutes after the sun had risen. Two armed men had a large truck parked across the road. Dean pulled up and rolled down the window. “Morning, guys.”

“Gentlemen,” the heavyset blonde man said, peering in the car. He dismissed Rodney and Castiel out of hand, focusing his attention on Dean and John. He eyed them carefully, his hand flipping off his gun’s safety.

The other man, beefy and balding joined his partner, and held out his hand. Dean didn’t even pretend he didn’t know what they wanted and tossed the brick of grass into the open hand. The man hefted it, and grinned. “I’ll go move the truck, gentlemen. Y’all have a good day, and come again soon.”

Dean waved goodbye and sped into Utah and down 319. When he could no longer see the Nevada blockade, he pulled over. “Okay, everybody out.”

“What the hell, Winchester?” John barked.

“Relax, Sheppard. We need to better arm ourselves and discuss a few things.”

Rodney made a point of looking around the deserted road. There were mountains in the distance, and the vista was rocky with scrub brush dotting the landscape, and mostly flat. “Better arm ourselves? Against what? Killer cactus?”

“After Dean’s brother died we stayed in Oregon for several months. But, we’ve talked to a few groups of people that passed along rumors about travelling through Utah,” Castiel interjected. “If your mission is as important as you say it is, I would think that your safety is paramount.”

“What sort of rumors,” John demanded. “And why are you only telling us this now?”

“Because rumors aren’t fact,” Dean said. “And I know Cas and I can handle trouble. I get the impression that you and McKay can as well.”

Hazel eyes flashing, John admitted, “Yeah, McKay and I can deal with trouble. But, we sorta like to know what kind of trouble.”

“Pretty vague stuff actually,” Dean stated. “Boys and men being kicked out of the state, willing or not. A few men shot as a warning, and women being taken against their will. Some guys who kidnapped a girl were responsible for my brother’s death. I’m not gonna let that happen on my watch again.”

“We can handle ourselves,” John assured him again.

“So could Sammy, yet he’s still dead,” Dean said flatly, moving to open the car’s trunk. He stuck a gun down the back of his jeans and secreted a wicked looking knife in a sheath.

John grabbed his P-90, passing another gun over to Rodney.

“We’ll stay on secondary roads until we hit Panguitch. That’s about 120 miles from here. We’ll stop there for the night,” Dean informed John.

John nodded. “Did any of those folks you talk to give you any idea about how many people are involved in getting rid of men?”

“No,” Dean said.

“It can’t be more than a thousand, and it’s more likely a few hundred,” Cas calculated. “The Wraith only left 100,000 people or so in the US.”

Without conscious thought, John’s P-90 was pointed at Castiel, Rodney immediately at his back, his gun drawn as well. “How could you possibly know that, Cas?” he growled. “This wouldn’t be the first time we’ve come across Wraith worshippers. Is that what you are?”

Dean stepped between Cas and the weapon pointed at him. “Stop, John. He’s not a Wraith worshipper, whatever the fuck that is.”

“There’s no way he could know how many people were left unless he colluded with the Wraith,” John pointed out.

Dean sighed. “I was really hoping to avoid this conversation. It’s going to sound pretty unbelievable.”

“Try us. I told you I was from a different reality and you swallowed that.”

“That’s because I’ve been to another reality myself. Only I didn’t get there through a mirror.”

“I’ll bite. How’d you do it?” John asked conversationally.

“Remember when I told you my brother and I were bounty hunters?”

“Yeah. So what’s that got to do with anything?”

“Well, we were hunters, only we didn’t go after fugitives, we went after monsters.

“Monsters,” John repeated.

“Yeah, demons, vampires, werewolves, shapeshifters, ghosts, witches… Y’know, monsters.”

Behind him, Rodney snorted. “How the fuck do we get stuck with all the crazies?” he asked his lover.

“Hey,” Dean protested. “I know it’s hard to believe, but that’s how things worked in this reality.”

“That still doesn’t explain how Castiel knows how many people the Wraith left,” John said.

“I know because when the Wraith came, I was an Angel of the Lord. I’ve since been cut off from heaven and I’ve lost my Grace,” Castiel proclaimed over Dean’s shoulder.

John laughed outright while Rodney stomped away muttering. Dean turned to Cas. “This is why we don’t tell people.”

“I thought given their circumstances, they would be more - - accepting,” Castiel said contritely.

Dean approached John angrily as he’d lowered his weapon. “How come you have no fucking trouble believing in space vampires, but you can’t believe in angels?”

“I’ve seen space vampires, Winchester.”

“And now you’ve seen an angel. A former angel.”

“Fuck,” John spit. “Rodney, get your ass over here.”

“John, we’re not staying with these lunatics, are we?” Rodney demanded.

“Yeah, we are. They could have killed us a dozen times over and they haven’t. I’m gonna give them the benefit of the doubt. Besides, they’ve got information we don’t have the time to gather,” he snapped.

“Right. So we’re going on a road trip with a formal angel and a monster hunter. Peachy,” he sniped.

“Let eat now,” Cas suggested, breaking any remaining tension.

John broke out the MRE’s, carefully watching Castiel’s expression as he tasted the food. John was impressed that he hid his disgust so well. Cas put his meal aside, half uneaten and watched in fascination as Rodney devoured his meal.

Dean pulled out his maps and told John the route he’d mapped out. “We stay on NV 319 also know as Main Street, which becomes UT 56/West 200 N for about 60 miles. We’ll turn right onto I-15 and then a very quick left on UT 14 East, also know as North Main Street for about 20 miles and then we’ll make a left onto UT 148 for about 8 miles. After that we get onto UT 143 for about 30 miles. That road ends in Panguitch,” he explained. “We’ll stop there for the night and gas up.”

He stopping talking and tossed his keys to John. Sheppard caught them without thought, grinning. Dean tried to hand him the maps, but Rodney grabbed them first. “I’ll be riding shotgun and if you want to get to whatever hole in the wall town you’ve picked out, I’ll navigate. Otherwise we might end up back at Area 51.”

Snickering, Dean asked, “Is that any way to talk about your boyfriend, McKay?”

A question to which, Rodney had no answer.

~*~

Dean climbed in the back seat and asked Cas to wake him in an hour. Reclining into the comforting body of his husband, he fell asleep quickly. He woke on his own forty minutes later, and seeing that John was handling the Impala nearly as well as he did, asked him to pop in a tape. For the next few hours they traveled an empty road, taking in dead lawns becoming overgrown with native flora and empty house after empty house. While they drove, they all sang along with The Band, The Black Crowes, and a dozen other artists. It reminded John of every road trip he’d ever taken, except for the fact that he was travelling through a dead world. And he ached just a little for all that had been lost here, determined it wouldn’t happen to his reality.

Four hours later, they pulled into town. The streets were devoid of people, and there were some cars blocking the streets. Nearly every house had a car in their driveway or yard. Dean retrieved his gas can and started going car to car to siphon gas. He got lucky and found two cars with full tanks. He filled his own tank and then his five-gallon gas can. They picked one of the neat little houses at random, knocking to make sure it was unoccupied. It was a matter of moments for Dean to pick the lock and the four men made themselves at home.

~*~

The four men spent the night relaxing. Although they’d travelled less than 300 miles, the trip had been stressful for all of them, and they were all feeling the effects of their early start. They’d found a bottle of Jack Daniels, and with the exception of Cas, they each had two shots while they traded stories about the dangers and horrors of their respective realities.

Rodney had a great deal of trouble believing anything Dean or Castiel had to say. It all sounded quite absurd to him. Dean confessed that the idea of travelling through a wormhole sounded equally absurd.

Dean finally related the story of his own time in an alternate reality. Rodney frowned, “So, where do you think your counterparts were?”

“No idea. There aren’t that many possibilities. They were in our reality, a completely different reality, or dead,” Dean answered.

“And you didn’t have any side effects,” John inquired.

“Nope.”

Rodney explained Entropic Cascade Failure to Dean and Cas, wondering aloud if changing DNA would prevent it.

“Do you have the means to change DNA?” Castiel wanted to know.

“Actually, we do. We’ve developed a gene therapy that would essentially change DNA.” Rodney replied.

“Do you think you’ll get this Cascade failure thing?” Dean asked.

“No. There is no way our counterparts are alive in this reality. We would’ve fought to the death,” John stated.

Their evening meal came out of cans, and after eating the men separated. They had an early night and were ready to go at sunrise after a light breakfast of canned fruit. Dean had laid out their route last night, but John had trouble following all the twists and turns the hunter had chosen. The first leg of the journey would be 60 miles on US-89, and Dean once again tossed him the keys. John hadn’t realized just how much he missed the simple pleasure of driving.

They planned on making 250 miles today. It was only 350 miles to Colorado, but Dean was unwilling to push his luck. He could have easily made the 350-mile run today, but in his experience, border crossings were generally troublesome. Also, he knew how easy it was to let the road take you. He included a lot of twists and turns not only to avoid abandoned cars, but also the hypnotic quality of a straight road. He wanted to be alert as possible. After today’s trip, they’d be half way to their goal.

John made the 60 miles easily. There had been one bad moment when part of the road had collapsed, but John had seen it time and veered over to the other lane. Still, the experience shook him a little. He hadn’t been as alert as he needed to be; this empty world lulling him into complacency. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

John was more than happy to turn the Impala over to Dean right before they entered Sevier Highway. It was only about 35 miles later on the outskirts of some tiny town off of UT 24 that John asked Dean to pull over.

In a small clearing set among oaks, a Ferris wheel still stood. John imagined the nameless men with a travelling fair who’d started setting it up when the Wraith came. Often the Ferris wheel was the first thing set up in order to generate interest. He’d watched any number of fairs being put together when he was growing up. It always fascinated him how fast a whole world could be made from the back of trucks and some hard labor.

This Ferris wheel was rusted out and weeds were growing up through the middle of the wheel. John stood there staring, gripping his P-90 tightly. Rodney joined him after a few minutes, knowing that his lover was mentally reviewing every Ferris wheel he’d ever ridden in the past. “I promise you, John, I’m going to exterminate every single fucking one of them. I won’t let what happened here happen in our reality.”

John stepped lightly into his arms. “I know. We’re going to do it together or die trying.”

“Hey, Sheppard, McKay! You okay?” Dean shouted.

John shot him a thumb’s up and they returned to the Impala. John passed out power bars and they continued on their way.

They were 10 miles out Duchesne, where they planned to stop for the night, when they encountered the first people they’d seen since the Nevada border. Two boys, no older than seventeen were on the side of the US 191 eating next to two small scooters. They looked just as shocked to see the four men as they were to see them.

Dean pulled up next to them, and Sheppard rolled down his window. “Hey, guys. How you doing?”

“Fine, sir,” the dark haired boy answered.

“What are you doing out here alone?”

“We, uh, we were asked to leave our community in Scofield,” the boy with lighter hair said, using finger quotes around the word asked.

“Why?” John asked.

“They caught us trying to help our younger sister escape. She was due to marry one of the elders, but he’s like fifty-two, and she didn’t want to marry him. They forced us out after that,” the darker haired boy explained.

Dean sighed. “Look, we don’t have room to take you with us, but if you can get to Taos, New Mexico, there’s an artist’s colony there, and I know they’d take you in.”

“Thanks, dude. Much appreciated.”

“Do you need anything?” John wanted to know.

“Nah, we’re good.”

“Just be careful,” Dean instructed.

“Will do,” the boys said together.

Dean threw the Impala into gear and peeled out, taking his anger out on the road. “Fuck,” he barked, hitting the steering wheel.

“You okay, Winchester?”

“No, not really.”

Cas sat up in his seat, stroking his hand gently down Dean’s arm. “Dean, I know how hard it is for you to walk away from anyone in trouble. You don’t have a choice right now.”

“I know, Cas. It doesn’t mean I have to like it though.”

They pulled into Duchesne a short time later. The easy camaraderie of last night was gone as Dean and Castiel disappeared immediately into one of the bedrooms of the randomly chosen house. John and Rodney took care of gassing up the Impala and refilling the gas can. They sat outside on the deck on the porch swing and ate their MRE’s in silence.

Rodney cleaned up, his mouth turned down, signaling his unhappiness. “What do you think he’s going to do?”

John pulled him back onto the swing, not relinquishing his hand. He threaded their fingers together. “He seems like the type of guy who may have to go back, Rodney. We’re half way there. If we have to, we’ll get there on our own.”

“It’s just that I was thinking of asking them to come back to Atlantis with us. We need men like him, John, and he’s fucking wasted on this dead planet and you know it,” Rodney said passionately. “And the really fucked up thing is that the goddamn Wraith _will_ be back and these people have no fucking defense against them.”

“Do you really think the gene therapy will change their DNA?”

“That’s what Carson theorized. I know I don’t say it often, but he was a genius. I don’t think there was one other geneticist on Earth that could’ve accomplished what he did.”

“High praise coming from you. Can we test if either of them already have the gene?”

Rodney opened his palm to display a small device. “I had it in my pocket.”

“Cool,” John said. “If they decide they’re gonna stick with us, we can test it on them. Something tells me the gene therapy will work on them if they don’t already have the gene.”

“Come on,” Rodney rose. “Let’s go see if Dean is done angsting.”

Cas was in the kitchen when they went back inside. “John, Rodney, do you want anything to eat?”

“No, thanks, we ate already. How’s Dean?” Rodney asked.

“My husband rages when he can’t save everybody. I reminded him that in helping you, we’d be saving billions. We can always backtrack for the girl,” Castiel related, his blue eyes bright and wide. “I’ve also found that blow jobs are helpful in improving his mood.”

There was dead silence for two seconds before John and Rodney began laughing. Wiping his eyes, Rodney said, “I know I’ve always found that to be true.”

Just then, Dean strolled into the kitchen, looking relaxed. “What’s always true, McKay?”

“That blowjobs help improve one’s mood.”

Shooting at heated look at Castiel, Dean smiled, “They sure do.”

“We gassed up the Impala,” John mentioned. “Do Rodney and I need to find ourselves a vehicle?” John probed, needing to hear it from Dean.

“Not unless you’ve decided that you don’t want to travel with me and Cas anymore,” Dean grimaced.

Ignoring the question, John instead quizzed Dean, “What’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“We’ve got 100, 110 miles to the Colorado border. After that, it’s a straight run on US 40 for about 260 miles. We’ll stop for the night by US 36 and we’ll hit the Springs the next day.” he replied. “As long as we’re on our way out of Utah, I don’t think we’ll hit any trouble, but I’m planning on getting us to the border around sunrise.”

“Cool,” John said, standing. He held out his hand for Rodney. “Come on, McKay. I think your mood needs some improving.”

Rolling his eyes, Rodney asked, “How long have you been working on _that_ line?”

“Since Castiel said it,” he laughed.

~*~

They set out at 4 AM, all of them anxious to get to Colorado. They were 10 miles out of Vernal, and 30 miles from the Utah-Colorado order when Castiel demanded Dean pull over. He did so without hesitation.

Rodney, who’d been lightly dozing, awoke immediately. “Wha… What’s wrong? Why are we stopping?”

“I don’t know. Cas?” Dean asked gently.

“I’m not sure, Dean. Just a feeling ,” he replied.

“So we wait,” Dean decided.

“How long?” Rodney griped.

“Until Castiel says it’s okay to move again, Doc.”

Remembering how it had been Castiel’s feeling that had led him and Dean to Area 51, Rodney sat back, anything he’d been about to say, forgotten. He pulled out the last of the power bars, distributing them before unwrapping one and munching it slowly.

They all took the time to check their weapons, talking quietly, unwilling to disturb the quiet of the morning. Every so often they would hear the cry of a hawk hunting for breakfast.

Forty minutes later, Cas let them know they could leave. The four men climbed back in the car to resume their journey. “Stay alert,” Dean warned.

The reached the roadblock 15 miles later. As they slowed for it, John announced, “At least six armed men are out of view.” His trained eyes had easily picked up the glint of the sun off their pulled weapons.

“Just stay cool,” Dean instructed.

Two men, one with a substantial beer belly, and the other one lean and rangy with bad posture approached the driver’s side of the Impala. They were both dressed in camos and reminded John more of little boys playing dress up than military. “You gentlemen on the way out of Utah?” Beer belly asked.

A loud, primal scream split the air before Dean could answer. John and Rodney reacted immediately; they were already shooting as they rolled out of the car, crouching. Dean and Cas reacted nearly as fast, and the two men that had approached the car were dead.

John rolled to the back of the Impala, to get the men on the other side of the road, his P-90 spitting bullets. Two of them found their target, but the third man was firing back. John felt the heat of one of his bullets. It entered the ground a few feet behind him and chipped the road. One of the shards flew and cut Sheppard’s face.

He was about to make his retreat when a yellow school bus pulled up in front of him giving him cover. He ran to the front of the bus and found the last man who’d stopped shooting. John picked him off easily.

The bus door opened and a woman standing on the bottom step screamed. “Get us out of here. Let’s go! Let’s go!”

John stepped into the bus and the woman driving closed the doors. They followed the Impala. He ran to the back of the bus and saw a car following. He kicked out the safety glass and fired his P-90. The car veered off the road and crashed as the driver died.

It was only then that John heard the screams and cries of the women and girls who filled the bus.

Dean drove past the Utah border into Colorado. Rodney had the map in his hands and was riding shotgun. Several miles past the border and just East of US 40, lay the town of Dinosaur. Rodney directed Dean to Allosaurus Lane between 2nd and 3rd Street. “Can you fucking believe they named a town Dinosaur?” he muttered.

He was running toward the bus before Dean had fully stopped. He banged on the door, shouting for John. Relief was written across his face when his lover appeared with a sheepish grin. “I thought you said no stupid heroics!” Rodney screamed.

Before John had a chance to explain his actions or reassure his lover, the women poured out of the bus, hugging all four men. The driver, a rawboned woman in her mid thirties with short, dark brown hair stomped out of the bus. “Those motherfucking religious freak bastards!” she screeched.

All four men had women of various ages hanging off them. The only one who looked even vaguely comfortable was Dean. Cas and John in particular were attempting to back away. Rodney came to John’s rescue. “All right, off, off, he’s mine.”

Dean gently removed the women clinging to Castiel, taking charge. He eyed each woman, twenty-five in total, ranging in age from around nineteen to their late forties. “Uh, are you all okay?” He was hoping none of these women had been molested in any way; he had no idea how to help them if they had been assaulted.

The woman driving stepped up. “Not to worry, handsome. We were at the reprogramming part of camp. They keep us for at least two months until we accept their claptrap and then they marry us off to their elders,” she explained. “They save the rape for the wedding night.”

Another woman chimed in. “Of course, by that point, you’re so fucked in the head, you don’t think of it as rape. Starvation and sleep deprivation combined with constant preaching of their message is very effective.”

The first woman straightened her shoulders. “I’m Patricia Piermont. And we can’t thank you enough for killing those assholes.”

Castiel, still clinging to Dean asked, “What exactly happened?”

Patricia held out her hand. A beautiful, petite, African-American woman joined her. “This is my partner, Roberta, Bobby for short. They grabbed us ten weeks ago. We both come from religious backgrounds so their bullshit wasn’t all that effective on us. Both our families rejected us when we came out. We’ve been together since college.”

Bobby picked up the story. “These other women have been taken since we’ve been there. We heard a commotion this morning and we acted. I made a knife a few weeks ago, and when most of the men holding us went out to greet you, I stabbed one of our guards. Patty grabbed his gun and then I killed the other guard and gave his gun to Jennifer,” she explained. Jennifer, a tall, willowy, blonde teenager waved.

John interrupted, “Can we expect any of them to come after us?”

“No, sugar. You and your friends killed the eight men who went to ambush you. I killed our two guards, and Patty and Jennifer shot five men while I corralled the other women. Obviously we missed the one that was following us, but you got him,” Bobby explained. “They certainly didn’t expect us to fight and they underestimated us. To their detriment,” she snarled.

“How did they know we were coming?” Dean inquired.

“No idea,” Patty said. “They kept us locked down pretty tight.”

Dean walked back to the Impala and grabbed the map, studying it for a few minutes. He called John over. “Craig is about 90 miles up US 40. It’s a much bigger town than this one is. I’d like to take the women there, arm them and give them some basic lessons on handling a weapon. I’m 100 percent certain there’s several gun shops there.”

John laughed. “Yeah, no shit, Dean. This is fucking Colorado. They love their guns.”

“This is gonna delay us a bit. You okay with that?”

“Sure. It wouldn’t feel right to leave these women alone. Even if they weren’t assaulted, they were still tortured.”

“Have you ever been tortured?” Dean pried.

“I ran Black Ops missions, Winchester. Most of my career has been one classified mission after another,” John confessed. “Yes, I’ve been tortured, more than once, but I was trained to withstand torture. You?

“Yeah. More times than I care to think about.”

“How far is this gonna set us back?”

“If we stay overnight in Craig, we’ll have 325 miles left to Colorado Springs rather than the 160 miles I planned for,” Dean admitted.

“That’s doable. Even if it takes an extra day, there’s no way we can leave these women.”

“I agree. Let’s get them moving. You want the bus or the Impala?”

“Shit, did the Impala take any fire?”

“Nope, my baby is a lot luckier than I am, that’s for sure,” Dean patted the car affectionately.

“Rodney and I will take the bus,” John decided.

Dean walked into the middle of the women clustered around Castiel and McKay, introducing himself and the other three men. “We’re headed to Craig, which is 90 miles further into Colorado. We’re going to get you all weapons and teach you how to use them. We’ll also teach you how to get gas and hotwire cars so you can dump the bus. We’ll overnight there and we can talk about your options,” Dean reassured them. “I also want you to know that you have nothing to fear from us. Cas here is my husband, and you’ve all met John’s boyfriend, Dr. McKay,” he said, much to the amusement of the women.

~*~

John took over the driving from Patty, Rodney riding with his weapon trained out the back window. Two hours later they hit Craig, and found a gun shop. Dean broke in and he and John started gathering various weapons, pulling mainly 9 mm semi-automatic pistols along with a few AR-15 semi-automatic rifles for the women along with boxes of ammo, Tasers, and stun guns.

When questioned, fifteen of the women admitted to having experience with guns, ten of them extensive experience. The remaining ten had limited or no experience. John took those women and began instructing them on the proper handling and care of the 9 mm’s. The other women were split between Dean, Cas, and Rodney.

They spent two hours instructing the women and overseeing their practice. They gave them a brief introduction to the Tasers and stun guns and then handed them out. The women that had more experience went into the gun shop and retrieved additional weapons, all of them determined that no man would ever take them against their will again.

Dean them gave a brief lesson on how to siphon gas. Teaching the women to hotwire cars took a bit longer, but within an hour, every woman there was able to do it. To show their gratitude, the women raided a number of homes and two supermarkets and cooked for the four men. Over dinner, Dean and Castiel told them about Taos and the art colony there. A number of women expressed interest and questioned them more extensively.

Since they’d run into the boys, Dean had been thinking about the colony and wondering if any of the women who’d claimed to be pregnant when they left actually were. He thought wistfully of children sired by Sammy, and thought he and Castiel would go back and see after they got Sheppard and McKay where they needed to be. He refused to wonder if any of the women had been carrying his child.

Despite what he’d been told, John thought it prudent to set up a watch. Dean agreed. They took it in four-hour shifts. The night passed swiftly and the men were ready to go at first light. Patricia and Bobby came to say goodbye and to thank them once again. Dean advised her to get the women moving as soon as possible.

~*~

The last leg of the journey was accomplished more easily than any of them expected. The fact that they didn’t run into any trouble made all of them tense. John drove the US 40 and US 34 portion of the trip, pushing the Impala as fast as he dared. They took a short break when they hit US 36, and Dean took over driving. He had an innate feel for the road, and enjoyed finding back roads and the old two lane highways that most people stopped driving in favor of the multilane Interstates.

Dean found Cheyenne Mountain Road and then Norad Road, half expecting to be shot by any military that might have escaped the Wraith. He stopped right in front of the tunnel leading into the mountain. “What’s next?”

“Pop the trunk,” Rodney requested. The four men exited the car. “I want to get our equipment out now. I have no idea what the power situation is going to be like. If they mothballed the facility, and it still has power, it’ll mean low lights. If the power grids have gone off line, it’ll mean total darkness.”

Back in Nevada, when Rodney and Dean had gone through the tools McKay had brought from Atlantis, they hadn’t put the tools together. Now, he needed to gather them all because he had no idea what would be needed once they got to Stargate Command. He didn’t want to take the time to look for tools once inside the complex.

John got out the knapsack containing the C-4, grabbing his other bag, which contained clothing and the all-important zat, already in its specially designed holster. He attached the holster to his TAC vest, ignoring Cas and Dean’s curious eyes.

“Grab your gear and some weapons,” John ordered the two men. “We don’t know what we’re going to find down there.”

“What about the mirror?’ Dean asked.

“We’ll find a handcart when we get inside,” Rodney answered.

“How do we get inside?” Castiel wanted to know.

“Grinning, John replied, “We drive in.”

“Seriously?” Dean drawled.

“Well, part way, about a quarter of a mile,” Rodney said.

“And then what? Where’s the power source and how do we get to it?” Dean pushed. “If it’s as important as you say, I doubt it’s just lying around.”

“That’s what we have to figure out. It all depends on whether or not the power is still working,” Rodney repeated.

“Worse case scenario?”

“Worst case is we have to climb down the shafts and hook up generators to get the elevators working,” Rodney began. He reached for the cards he wore around his neck, displaying them. “Best case is that the power grid is online. These will get us in everywhere we need to go. If not, the weapon John is carrying will.”

They got back in the car, and Dean drove it straight into the tunnel, as far as he could go. He stopped by the massive blast doors, which stood open.

“Frowning, John turned to Rodney. “Why would the blast doors be open? Aren’t they supposed to be closed during things like alien invasions?”

“I don’t know, John. Maybe they opened them after everything was over so anyone that survived could access the Stargate,” McKay theorized.

“Okay, guys, I’m gonna go find a handcart for the mirror. Just sit tight,” John ordered.

“Why can’t we bring the power source to the mirror?” Dean inquired.

“No can do, Winchester. You’ve no idea how fucking dangerous that thing is. I really don’t want to leave it in the open for anyone to find.”

John hopped out of the car and trotted off to find a handcart. He brought the scanner with him to check for signs of life. Rodney took the opportunity to see if Dean and Castiel had the gene. He dug through his pocket and retrieved the small device he’d brought along by accident. He began playing with it knowing Castiel would be curious and ask to see it.

Right on cue, Castiel tilted his head, studying the small rectangular object that was softly glowing. “May I see that?”

“Sure,” Rodney said, handing over the device. It immediately stopped glowing.

“It doesn’t seem to work when I touch it,” Cas observed.

“Give it to Dean,” Rodney requested.

Cas handed it over to Dean with the same results. The device remained inert. Dean handed it back.

“What is it?” Castiel asked curiously.

“Not sure. It’s part of something larger that we haven’t found yet.”

“I assume you need the gene to make it work,” he stated. Castiel was not the most garrulous man in the world. He made John look chatty, but he wasn’t a stupid man.

Rodney smiled warmly at him. “I was just curious if you had the gene, being a former angel and all.”

John returned twenty minutes later with the needed item. “Geez, you’d think these things were made out of gold. Good news, McKay. Looks like the power grid is operational, and there are no signs of human life.”

They unloaded the mirror, piling the rest of their equipment around it, strapping all of it down. They were about to enter the corridor, when a snarl echoed off the tunnel walls.

The sound was so out of place and surprising that none of the men reacted for a breath of time. By the time guns were pulled, the lion was pouncing. His claws caught John, who moved a moment too late to avoid being clawed, but fast enough for the lion to miss clawing him to the bone.

Bullets rang out from three guns and the lion dropped.

“Fuck,” John gasped, clutching at his shoulder and arm where the lion’s claws had caught him.

Rodney ran to him, examining the nasty looking wound. Cas handed him a clean t-shirt and he wrapped it around the wound as a make shift bandage. “That’s going to need at least twenty or thirty stitches.”

“Is there an infirmary in this mountain?” Dean demanded.

“Yes, on sublevel 21.”

“Take us there. You and Cas go get the ZPM, and I’ll stitch up Sheppard.”

They quickly reached the bank of elevators that would take them to Sublevel 11. Rodney swiped his card and the doors opened. He did his best to concentrate on the mission and ignore the blood soaking through the bandage they’d wrapped around John’s arm.

John managed to laugh through his pain. “A fucking lion in the SGC. No one is going to believe that story,” he noted.

During the drive up the mountain, they’d had a brief discussion about the zoo. “How do you think it got out?” Dean wondered.

“Who knows,” Rodney answered. “Some idiot let them out or it got hungry enough to escape.”

“I didn’t know lions could survive the cold,” Dean admitted.

“They survived an ice age, Dean,” Castiel said. “And, there’s so much game now I’m sure it had no problem hunting.”

“Lucky me,” John sniped.

They arrived at their floor, and there was another corridor to navigate before they reached a second elevator. Rodney again used his card, and the elevator opened immediately. They got the handcart in, and with Dean still supporting John; they took the long ride down to Sublevel 21 where the Infirmary was located.

McKay dragged the handcart to the main medical bay. Dean grabbed his bag and looked around. The infirmary was well stocked, indicating that there hadn’t been casualties that needed to be treated after the culling. Dean washed his hands thoroughly and began gathering the supplies he needed. “Cas, open one of the bottles of Johnny Walker, and pour off three fingers.”

Castiel rooted around Dean’s bag and did as he was asked. He handed the glass to John who swallowed the Scotch in one go.

“Do you think alcohol is the best thing for him right now?” Rodney demanded.

“It’ll help with the shock,” Dean informed him. He had a selection of curved eyed surgical needles, packets of thread, three bottles of sterilized water, and a vial of lidocaine along with a syringe on a metal tray. He rewashed his hands, taking care to scrub with a brush.

“Hey, Rodney, come grab the zat, you might need it.”

Dean paused. “What does that do?” he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

“One shot renders you unconscious, two kills you, three disintegrates whatever you shoot,” John explained.

“Cool. If you had that, why carry C-4?”

John and Rodney shared a glance and they both grinned. “Because sometimes you just need a big bang,” they said in unison.

“Ain’t that the truth? You attached to this shirt, Sheppard?”

“Nah, I’ve got a dozen more just like it.”

“Good,” Dean remarked as he began cutting it off. He thoroughly washed out the wound, using all three bottles of sterilized water. He turned to McKay. “You may not want to watch this,” he advised, preparing the syringe with lidocaine.

“I’m used to it,” Rodney admitted.

“Don’t worry, Doc. He’ll still be pretty when I’m done with him,” Dean joked.

Dean began injecting small doses of the lidocaine, ignoring John’s slight hisses of pain. “What’s the plan, McKay?” John asked to take his mind off the procedure.

“I’m going to the gateroom first. If the ‘gate isn’t shielded, I’m going to take it offline.”

“Good idea. The last thing this world needs is anything coming through the ‘gate.”

“I also want to check Sam and Jackson’s offices. They would be the two most likely to have information we might need.”

“Okay. Get moving. Dean’s got things well in hand,” he ordered.

Cas helped Rodney unload the mirror before they left, along with everything else they didn’t need. They took the elevator down to Sublevel 28 and headed for the ‘gate room. McKay was happy to find the Stargate shielded.

“It looks strange here,” Castiel observed. “It seemed more - - imposing when it was in Egypt.”

‘You know about the Stargate?” Rodney said in amazement.

“I’ve been observing humans for a very long time, Rodney,” Cas acknowledged.

“That’s pretty creepy, you know. You’re aware of the Ancients?”

“I am, but angels never had anything to do with them. As Dean would say; they’re dicks”

Laughing, Rodney agreed. “They sure are.”

They headed up to Carter’s lab on Sublevel 19. Her lab was empty of anything useful. Rodney hoped Daniel’s lab on Sublevel 18 would yield more results. His lab was its usual chaotic mess, artifacts sharing space with piles of books and reports. On his desk Rodney found a leather bound book with only a few pages used. It was written in a variety of languages and Rodney had no hope of translating it. He handed it to Castiel. “Can you read this?

Cas flipped through the pages. “I can. I’m going to photocopy this, it’s important.”

Rodney had continued to search and he found several copies of schematics that looked to be a planet wide shield. A shield that didn’t necessarily need a ZPM to power it. Rodney could see how using a hundred or so Naquadah generators spread out through the world would also work. He stuffed one copy into his backpack.

Castiel handed him the photocopies of the journal. “I need a little more time to fully decipher it. I’ll wait until we get back to the infirmary. I think John and Dean need to hear what it says,” Castiel apologized.

“Okay, let’s go get the ZPM. It’s on Sublevel 23.” As they walked toward the elevator, Rodney studied Castiel. “You know, you guys should consider coming back to Atlantis with us. Saving women is great and all, but there are thousands of people in the Pegasus galaxy who could use your help, not to mention the billions of people in the Milky Way galaxy. I’m confident that the gene therapy will work on the both of you allowing you to stay in our reality - - even if your counterparts are there,” Rodney said.

“I think if you ask Dean he might consider it. I go where he goes,” Castiel disclosed.

“That’s it? No conditions, no discussions?”

“No, none. I would follow him into hell. I trust him like no other, and I love him like no other. I also know to the depths of my soul that Dean loves me the same,” he admitted. “Do you not feel the same way about John?”

“I might argue a little more if I thought he was wrong, but, yeah. I’d follow John anywhere. I love him like I’ve never loved anyone before, and there won’t ever be anyone else that I love like that. I intend to spend the rest of my life with him,” Rodney responded. “We don’t exactly talk about it, but it’s there, and I have no doubt he feels the same way.”

“Yes, I agree with you. John loves you a great deal. I see it in him, you know. I see how he looks at you, and how protective he is of you,” Castiel told him.

“We’re lucky men, Castiel.”

“Yes, Rodney, we really are.”

The two men entered the elevator and went down to Sublevel 23 to the power room. There was a generator hooked up to the power grid, and a ZPM plugged in to the power relay, glowing. It was a matter of moments for Rodney to disengage the generator. He scanned the ZPM, and crowed, “It’s a little over 97 percent full!”

Retrieving the padded case meant to hold the ZPM, he gently lifted it from the power relay, and carefully placed it in the case. He took out some clothing and wrapped it around the ZPM case, further cushioning it and placed the whole package back in his knapsack.

“Let’s go see how John and Dean are doing,” he said.

~*~

Dean was just finishing up the stitches. “That was fast,” Dean observed, pulling thread through the last stitch. “He won’t have much of a scar.”

“How’d everything go,” John probed.

“Easier than we anticipated. The ZPM is more than 97 percent charged, and the ‘gate is shielded,” Rodney reported. “We did find plans for a planet wide shield and a letter of sorts from Daniel.”

“What’d it say?”

“No idea. I found the notebook, but I think Castiel is the only one who’s going to be able to translate it, unless Daniel comes to visit us,” Rodney said. The notebook had been written in a mixture of French, Italian, Arabic, Latin, Hieroglyphics, Ancient Mayan, and Ancient. Sometimes all seven languages were used in a single line.

Rodney handed Cas the photocopies. Castiel took a few minutes to read through them and then began reading aloud in his deep gravelly voice, his hesitations and odd stress on certain phrases lending importance to the words…

“The loss of Atlantis was the greatest tragedy imaginable. And we have no one to blame but ourselves. The cost of being cheap was the loss of billions of humans. Politicians, the need to line their own pockets, and the games they played kept us from giving Atlantis the full support she needed and deserved.

“General Jack O’Neill and I, Doctor Daniel Jackson, failed. We failed to get anything for Atlantis; not help, not funding, not supplies, nothing. We allowed the government and the IOA to essentially abandon her. It was Atlantis that kept the Wraith from us. And once she was gone, any hope of Earth surviving was lost.

“The Wraith were practically on our doorstep before we could mount a defense. Jack and I did manage to find a nearly full ZPM. It would have powered the planet wide shield that Dr. McKay and Colonel Carter developed. Unfortunately, it was too late by the time we returned to Earth. We found a world that was nearly empty and devoid of life. We did a fly over of the United States, and our scans picked up approximately 97,000 life forms. We are leaving the ZMP in the hook up we used to open the gate to the Pegasus galaxy in the event someone from another reality gets desperate enough to search for one.

“If anyone is interested in staying here, Jack and I are at his cabin. If you’ve ever met Jack, you know exactly where we are. I would ask that you leave my notebook in the event others come. It might make a difference in funding in other realities. Photocopy these pages, or take pictures of it. Take it the Daniel Jackson in your reality if he exists. If he doesn’t, take it to Jack. He’s a good man no matter the reality, and he’ll be able to use it as evidence to get the shield in place and to get the funding Atlantis needs.

“Tell them what you found here. Tell them that Atlantis must be saved, no matter the cost.

“Daniel Jackson”

As Castiel read the translation out loud, Rodney’s eyes widened, while John’s narrowed. They’d both known that Atlantis was vital to the survival of their home world, now they had proof of sorts.

“If they had gotten this ZPM back in time, would it have saved the planet?’ Dean asked.

“Doubtful,” Rodney responded. “If the Wraith were already in the atmosphere, the shield would have prevented more Wraith from getting though, but I’m not sure it would have made much of a difference in the long run.”

Dean was crushed. A wave of grief for Sammy washed over him bringing him to his knees. Cas ran to him, picking him up and supporting him. “You’ve been fighting against fate and your destiny for most of your life, Dean. Sam also,” Castiel said fiercely. “I don’t know if that’s the curse or the blessing of mankind, but perhaps it’s time to submit.”

“Look,” John began. “We’re fighting the Wraith in our reality. It doesn’t seem like you’ve got anything or anybody here. Why not come with us?” he offered.

Dean turned to his husband, searching his beautiful face for any reluctance. All he saw was a fierce look, Castiel’s open, honest expression, and love shining from his eyes. “Cas?” he asked quietly, a hundred questions in his soft voice.

“I say we go, Dean. Maybe we can make a difference there. Our work here is done,” Cas answered.

“What about that cascade failure thing the doc was talking about?” Dean inquired. He wanted to go. Badly. But he’d sooner die than put Castiel in danger.

“McKay’s sure if we get the gene therapy, it’ll change our DNA enough that it won’t affect us. I’ve got a hunch the therapy will work on the both of us,” Cas stated confidently.

Dean’s gut told him the same thing. He looked over to Sheppard and McKay. Rodney had repositioned the mirror and was fooling around with a device that looked like a television remote control. McKay pushed a button and a lab appeared on the other side of the mirror. “Do I take your bags or what?” Rodney wanted to know.

“What do you say, Winchester? Care to visit the fabled city of Atlantis?” John smirked.

“You’re sure we’d be welcome?”

“Hell, yeah,” John reassured him.

“Let’s roll,’ he grinned, putting aside grief and anger.

Rodney, grinning crookedly, loaded Dean and Castiel’s bags onto the handcart, and strapped it all down.

Dean reached out to Castiel, pulling him into his arms for a brief moment, brushing his lips lightly across his husband’s. He straightened and walked into their new life without looking back.

 

The End

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Many, many thanks to Winter and Astroskylark for beta duty. Thank you also to Holdt who read this in the early stages. Any and all remaining errors are mine.
> 
> Thank you to Kelly, Shazzz, QuinGem, The Medicated Sheep, Antares, Winter, and WordGeek, all of who attempted to answer some of my endless questions during the planning part of this story, and who led me to some pretty cool databases. Also thank you to those who helped but wish to remain nameless.
> 
> The Ferris wheel John stops to look at was inspired by a manip signed by thesmilingfish, AKA georgiesmith.
> 
> This is still not the road trip fic I had in mind. The story I originally had in mind was a lighthearted romp, something this story isn't.


End file.
